


Your heart was glass (I dropped it)

by raredreams



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: A whole lot of angst, Alternate Universe - Babysitters, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Engagement, Canon LGBTQ Character, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, LGBTQ Female Character, Self-Harm, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love, a whole lot of it, let’s go lesbians let’s go, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raredreams/pseuds/raredreams
Summary: “The silence between the words left unsaid had never been Shelby’s favorite. She had never enjoyed her pointer finger pressing into her thumb until it drew blood; a silent plea to stop never leaving her crestfallen lips. Shelby doesn’t enjoy it now with Toni looking at her like she was everything and nothing all at the same time. She thinks that if she is their downfall, then Toni is their saving grace.“/// AU. When Shelby Goodkind had accepted a job to nanny two children, she never thought that she would be (almost) sharing her job with the gardner. She also never thought she’d think of anyone else but her fiancé. Apparently Toni Shelifoe made her do a lot of things she wouldn’t normally have done.
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind & Toni Shalifoe, Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Je me noie dans la vague de ton regard amoureux

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve never done this before on ao3 so like please bare with me. but this story is like slightly based on The Haunting of Bly Manor but like just the jobs toni & shelby have and like the overall vibe of the book.
> 
> title from Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift.

**“I’m not sure what peace is supposed to feel like but I think it may feel a lot like you.“** _ — anatomy-of-rains _

♥︎♥︎♥︎

Shelby has grown up noticing the things people don’t do rather than the things that they do do. How her father showed her religion and discipline, rather than love and acceptance. How her first boyfriend never asked her permission to take away a thing she hadn’t thought about yet. How when interviewing for her job, Mr. Vos couldn’t take his eyes away from her bare legs and instead place them upon his (very) pregnant wife.

(She threw up right after the interview.) (Not that she’ll ever tell anyone.)

The blonde notices it now, as she pulls up to the grand house — more like mansion — for her very first day of work and she sees Wilhelm and Genevieve (twins) playing outside by themselves. Shelby would like to now mention how it was raining and had been for the past hour. And the way the two were soaked to the bone indicated they probably have been outside for a good portion of that.

Pulling up to the house, she quickly stepped out of the car and to the direction where the children were. As Shelby ran across the lawn and pulled her jean jacket over her head and already soaked hair, the thought that this was how she was starting her first real job occured to her. Outside in the pouring rain and chasing two kids who thought it was a game for some odd reason.

God, she needed to workout more.

“Gotcha!“ She quickly wrapped her arm around the waist of Genevieve and secured the other on the collar of Wilhelm. “Now, what are you two doing out in the rain? You’ll catch a nasty bug if you stay out much longer.“

Shelby could hear the giggles leave their lips as she moved them to the canopy. She noticed how they didn’t move away then. How, if it was possible, they seemed to move even closer to her.

“Toni says that that myth is false!“ The young boy says it was so much certainty and . . . affection that it tilts her off-center for just a second. Who’s Toni?

“Well,“ she pauses to bring her jacket back onto her shoulders and off of her head. “Colds spread more easily in the cold and its mighty freezing out here. How about we go inside and I can greet your Mommy and Daddy before they leave?“

The twins pause as they register her words. Apparently something she had said resonated deep inside them because a few bated moments later they looked away from the other and nodded their heads slowly. Point Shelby. She could do this.

(If she didn’t majorly fuck up in the next ten minutes, that is. Then she has it in the bag.)

“Come on, then.“ Genevieve wrapped her smaller hand around Shelby’s before grabbing her brother’s in the other. She then watches as she is pulled into one of the fanciest houses she’s ever been in and she can tell her jaw loosened just the slightest. A look of perplexity crosses over her features for a second before she quickly schools them to a more neutral look.

The house hadn’t changed at all since the last time Shelby had been there. In fact, the house in question looked like it had stepped back in time. With big wooden french doors and a chandelier being the first thing she noticed. But then came the shelves upon shelves of expensive looking books and knickknacks, the dark green walls and accents of burgundy; cream, and hickory spread sporadically throughout. The nice rugs with zero stains and the pictures of the children in every corner. The fireplace — unlit and almost ghostly in the absence of the heat — is grand and beautiful like everything else.

Shelby almost feels out of place in her plaid skirt, sweater, and drenched jean jacket. She feels out of place with her sopping hair that had been done up in curls just half an hour before. She especially feels out of place when she looks down at her thoroughly worn out pair of Mary Janes she’s basically worn consistently since her Senior year of high school. Shelby Goodkind feels inexpensive and she’s never felt that way before.

(Maybe she can’t do this.)

“Miss Sh-Shelby?“ It’s said in the silence. A silence that Shelby’s beginning to think comes along with the house. “M-M-Miss Shelby?“

Oh. Right. She has a job that she needs to begin. She snaps out of the tranquil-like state she was in and glances down at Wilhelm, remembering something about how Colette Vos (their mother) had made it a point to talk about her son’s speech impediment. Like she was worried it’d make her want the job less or something.

Crouching down, Shelby made sure to catch his eyes before she began to speak. “Is something wrong?“

“It’s just th-th-that Mommy said to wa-wait until they left the study to t-t-t-talk.“

She nodded her head slowly and smiled as kindly as she could. So, trouble in paradise? Maybe? Did she have to be involved in that in anyway or was her job just to entertain the kids? Shelby really shouldn’t be this confused but she’s telling herself it’s only because it’s her first day. First day nerves and everything.

“Well then we can just — “

“ — Just drop it, Preston!“

Her chapped lips quickly snap closed as the voice of Collete Vos echoes throughout the house. Her french accent is even more pronounced now than it had been a week ago, but Shelby thinks it has more to do with her feelings towards her husband than anything else. Fatin — her oh-so-lovely roommate — had once told her her own accent does the same thing when she gets worked up.

“Oh,“ a pause. The silence is suffocating and she truly wonders how one can live in this house every single day. “Shelby we didn’t realize you’d be here already and so . . . well, wet.“

She kind of wants to die. Out of embarrassment for God knows what. Also out of the fact that as she turns around, she’s come face to face with Preston and Colette Vos; both clad it clothes that probably cost as much as her car did when it first came out. And suddenly she’s reminded of her shoes yet again.

“Um, well you said sometime around 8:30 and it’s - it’s 8:43, Miss.“ (Fuck. Her.)

Shelby looks on as Colette moves her hand away from her baby bump and to her dark — almost black — hair. It’s fallen into waves around her shoulders, almost how Shelby had wanted her own hair to look like this morning. She wants to scoff at her comparison of herself to the older woman, they seem to be almost complete opposites.

There’s a screaming silence in the air and Shelby is heavily aware of how her right hand is still captured in Genevieve’s and how her hair is dripping onto the rug underneath her. She’s heavily aware of how Mr. Vos isn’t looking at his wife and rather at her legs again. She can feel the bile slowly rise up her throat, clawing at it like it was some wild animal. She’s aware of how her breathing’s becoming more irregular. The room seems to be partaking in one constant inhale with her, the air around her unmoving and eerie.

“Very well.“ An exhale. Genevieve’s hand loosens just the slighest. Mr. Vos looks back to his wife as she continues to speak. “My husband and I should be leaving anyway. C’était super de te rencontrer.“ She turns to her kids then, a more genuine smile overtaking her face. “Je vais voir vous deux ce soir. Comporter.“

Shelby just nods as they leave, not understanding the last few things Mrs. Vos had said but just going along with it anyway. A half-hearted goodbye leaves her lips just as they exit the house.

That went swell.

She turns back to the two with a slightly forced smile gracing her lips. “So, what do you two want to do?“

♥︎♥︎♥︎

They spend the majority of the morning baking cookies (because that’s apparently what they wanted to do) and Shelby’s nerves have decreased a considerable amount since she first left her house hours before. Point Shelby. Again.

She has flour on her cheek and in her hair somewhere, she knew that. She also knew that they had managed to get flour just about everywhere else. Because apparently Genevieve and Wilhelm just love living in a cliché, and things like baking fights and randomly singing Disney songs happen on the regular. (She would like to admit that she knows every-word to Reflection in Mulan.) (A fact that Genevieve quickly used to her advantage and made her sing it three times before focusing back on the cookies.)

They just put the fourth batch into the oven when Shelby’s aware of the front door opening and closing, footsteps following a person until they’re in the kitchen with the three of them. After that Shelby’s aware of an entirely different thing.

“Toni!“ A laugh, one full and fills every bit of silence the room once held. There’s two pairs of feet running and then, what Shelby guesses, is a hug that lasts for the better half of a minute. So this is the Toni he was talking about before?

Genevieve pulls Shelby out of her trance of staring at the baking cookies. “Shelby! This is Toni! She’s the gardener.”

Somewhere in that oh-so-lovely introduction Shelby is suddenly conscious of the fact that she’s still facing away from everyone, so with a quick prayer that her hair and makeup don’t look too terrible; she turns around. She tilts off-center for a second again when she’s face to face with the girl Wilhelm continuously mentioned.

Her hair’s dry and in a ponytail so she guesses it’s stopped raining sometime in the morning. Which is good because Shelby can focus on her hair instead of the intense way Toni is looking at her. She feels something deep in her stomach when they lock eyes and, when that’s too much, her eyes dip slightly lower to her lips and —

No. They just met and — just no.

“I’m-I’m Shelby Goodkind. Their new . . . nanny.“ The way she says it as she steps closer towards the girl seems uncertain, like she’s taking careful steps as to not awake anyone. Like if she said the wrong thing they’d all fall down the rabbit hole and it would be her fault they got lost in Wonderland.

“Hi, Shelby Goodkind.“ She can hear the amusement lining her voice, along with what she thinks is confusion but she’s never been very good at telling people’s feelings. “I’m gonna take a guess and say that this is your first day.“

“How did you — “

“ — Toni’s been sick the past week. This is her first day in a way, too.“ Genevieve says it with a airy laugh bubbling out of her throat at the end and Shelby wants to know what she finds so funny. Because from where she stands, the silence is too loud and her pointer finger is digging into her thumb so hard she could draw blood if she wanted to.

“Funny,“ she says. A laugh leaves her mouth a few seconds later. It sounds forced, it is forced.

“Yeah,“ Toni drags out. She won’t stop looking at her. “I’m gonna head out to the greenhouse, actually. So I’ll see you guys later, yeah?“

Shelby watches as Genevieve and Wilhelm say goodbye to Toni like they’ll never see her again. She watches when the brunette whispers something to them that causes the twins to giggle uncontrollably. She watches when Toni looks up and their eyes lock like suddenly their lives have turned into some cliché. Shelby watches until she can’t anymore and that’s when she turns to look back at the cookies, ignoring the amused chuckle that leaves Toni’s lips as she does. She can do this, right?

♥︎♥︎♥︎

She gets as far as an hour without seeing Toni until she comes in with flowers in her hands and a smirk-pretending-to-be-smile on her face. Shelby can see right through her as she hands a rose to her, their hands brushing just the slighest bit. She can see right through it and yet she can still feel her cheeks heating up, tilting her off-center yet again.

It goes like that for her entire first month working for the Vos’ and a bit into her second one; Toni enters the house at noon and the kids act like she just came back from war. They hug and Shelby will cast glances at her as she tells them about what she had done since she last seen them. (Aka the day before. Literally.) Toni will give them all a flower at one or two and then Shelby will see her sporadically for the rest of the day.

She likes it like that. Likes that as long as Toni isn’t by her, she doesn’t have to think about her. She doesn’t have to think about how Toni’s eyes don’t leave hers the way Shelby’s do. She doesn’t have to think about the jeans she wears or the songs she mumbles under her breath.

She can think about how it consistently rains here. Or, the book she’s reading to the kids that day. Anything but the way she wants to — but doesn’t — look at Toni. Like look look, the way she does. Or at least she didn’t, but then Genevieve and Wilhelm’s eighth birthday happened and Shelby probably fucked everything up like she was thinking she would.

She can get back from that though . . . right?


	2. If only I could please her

The irony of saying you loved someone when you just loved the idea of them had never been lost on Shelby. She had lived that ironic thought, is still living it if she really wants to give honesty a go. When she leaves the Vos’ at night, a murmured goodbye leaving her lips with one hand on the ridiculously expensive door and the other gripping her necklace like it was a lifeline, she can see it in Colette and Preston Vos.

It’s in the way they look at each other. With too little love and too much contempt for the other. It’s in the way they look at their children differently. For Shelby can always tell Mrs. Vos views her children like they are angels put on this Earth from God themself, and she can see Mr. Vos does not. He views them in a way that most people view children: bothersome, dainty, a question rather than an answer. She knows that their two children (and now third) had been last minute attempts to save an already failing marriage. That they had long since yearned for the ’till death part of their vows. But that doesn’t stop Shelby from wishing that Genevieve and Wilhelm would grow up in a home filled with two parents that held so much love in their hearts instead of just one.

She’s brushing Genevieve’s dark brown hair when she get’s another example of how ironic the idea of love is.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

“Preston, I’m just saying that maybe if you stopped fuc — “

“ — Shut your damn mouth, Colette! You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.“

Shelby pauses, full on pauses. It’s not a strange occurrence for the pair to be arguing, not even on a day that wasn’t there’s to be mad at. It’s happens almost once every day: a fight. Mindless bantering, a screaming match. They’re the same thing to Colette and Preston. Just other reminders that they were just simple parts to an unhappy marriage.

It’s kinda funny. Just how cliché everything becomes once you enter the Vos’ house. Suddenly it’s normal for a wife to hate her husband and vice versa. It’s normal for your breath to just stop when a girl you barely know walks through the door. When Shelby was a little bit younger — just the slighest bit more naive — she would have ate all this shit up. Would have let it seep into her bloodstream and become a part of her being. Because that was what she had grown up in: the constant back and forth. The ’if someone hates you it just means they care about you’ logic. It was just one real fucking funny joke.

There’s a few more beats of tense silence, ones that seemed so tangible she wasn’t sure how they weren’t choking out there. Shelby could honestly feel that rigid pressure build up in her own throat, fearing for the worse. Fearing of what she would do if that did happen and Genevieve realized it at the same time she did. Fearing that she wouldn’t be able to help —

“ — Miss Shelby? Are you gonna stare at my hair all day because I’m pretty sure we won’t make it to my party if you do.“

She’s sent an accusatory look through the mirror and it quickly jumpstarts her senses again. An hour before a party (an hour that’s meant to get ready) is not the time to spend thinking about her melancholic backstory. So she just sends an apologetic smile right back and finishes Genevieve’s hair; ignoring the harsh whispers just outside the door.

“What dress are you gonna wear, Gigi?“ (A nickname she had been told after her first week there and she was deemed a friend rather than a nanny.)

“Probably the purple one. Mommy says it looks the best on me — that it compliments my eyes.” She says it in a way that sounds like she’s reciting a passage that’s been read a thousand times and then some.

“Well,“ Shelby brushes some of the hair away from Genevieve’s face, “you do have gorgeous eyes.“ A smile graces the younger girls lips, one that looks so sincere and joyous that it almost catches Shelby off guard. “Now come on, let’s get your outfit ready. Don’t want to be late to your own party, do we?“

And so Shelby helps with the finishing touches to Genevieve’s outfit, a small smile on her face the entire time. It reminds her of when she used to do pageants. Or, at least the better parts of when she did pageants. The adrenaline buzzing in the air along with a nervous type of feeling sinking into the pit of your stomach. The giddiness that comes with wearing a pretty dress with pretty shoes and pretty accessories. She can tell that Gigi feels it all, too. Can tell that it all comes from the fact that half of the party’s intentions is going solely towards her and the fact that she’s turning a year older. Hell, Shelby would be nervous too if everybody and their moms came to her birthday party with clear intentions to find out everything about her and her life.

(Colette had claimed that the twins only turned eight once when she had asked about the extensive guest list.)

“You ready?“

“As I’ll ever be.“

Shelby leads the two downstairs with her clasped around the much smaller one. The room seemed a lot more alive that night than it had since well, ever. She watched as Genevieve ran to her brother and then they ran to their parents. She watched as the four of them turned and walked to the kitchen. She then watched the servers and waiters around her instead. How they seemed to just brush past each other, single looks signaling what a paragraph couldn’t. 

She liked the knowing of it all. The trust.

“People watching, Goodkind?”

Shelby could already feel the small smile tugging on her lips. Toni Shelifoe always seemed to pop up just when she was supposed to and the blonde liked that about her.

“Depends.“

Turning to look at the brunette, Shelby tries (she truly does) to hide the look on her face when she takes in her. Toni had proved many things to her in the few months that they had known each other. The fact that people could worship others seemed to be the one that she’s going with today. And Shelby has never worshipped anything besides the Lord but she’s pretty sure Toni could bring her to her knees right now and she’d just sing her thanks through bated breaths and rose tinted cheeks.

She’s broken out of her slight panic (and definitely something else) when Toni steps just the slighest bit closer. If the blonde wasn’t so caught up in her head, she’d also probably notice the smirk painted across the other girl’s lips. But Shelby never notices things she should, just things she shouldn’t. So of course she’s aware of just when Toni starts speaking, “Depends on what?“

“If you find that weird or not?” Shelby winces at the end of her sentence and it makes it seem more like a question than it is. But the chuckle that leaves Toni’s lips makes her feel a little less on-edge.

“Nah, you’re good. My friend does the same thing but like all the time.“

There’s a few more words exchanged that Shelby half listens to, blaming it on the fact that she’s slightly nervous and not on the dark green — almost black — suit Toni has on. She catches the ’the party looks great’ and ’the food looks a little iffy’ but not much else. She knows she responds with something, can feel her lips moving with each new word. But then her attention is captured by the way Toni walks away with a smile and a small see you later leaving it.

It’s going to be a long night.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

The night is filled with Shelby running to and fro. From Wilhelm who accidently spills some soda down the front of his leg to the pet cat, Declan, who’s managed to knock about seventeen vases off tables since she had started her job. She helps re-clip Gigi’s hair into the right places, makes sure that Colette doesn’t have anything stuck between her teeth after dinner. Hell, Shelby helps the butler fix his bow tie after someone had messed it up.

Ever the people pleaser, she guesses.

She’s also somehow managed to avoid the pretty gardener every chance she got, instead answering Fatin’s text messages every five minutes. She hadn’t known what to make of it when the girl had seemed to know exactly what was to happen, but then she remembered how she had grown up in this type of lifestyle. She had been in the same shoes the twins are in now just a few years ago.

“Shelby!“ Colette moves closer to the girl, her hand clutching the hem of the black dress she wore. Velvet, maybe. “Sors de là, Reginald.“ She watches as the woman scolds a waiter for almost bumping into her like it was an afterthought. “Shelby! Can you grab some of those uh . . . fleurs blanches? They’re in the greenhouse.“

“Yeah, of course.“ (She can already hear Fatin calling her a kiss-ass in the back of her mind.)

But the short walk to the greenhouse is nice, to be honest. The large house had begun to feel overcrowded and oppressive among the groups of people. But the outside, now successfully moving into the middle of October, was cool and calm. The leaves crunched beneath her feet and a small breeze danced across her face and spun her hair. Autumn was fully in swing.

Quietly opening the glass door to the greenhouse, Shelby held her breath as she entered the space. Every place she looked there was a different plant. Flowers, orchids, embryophytes, and just about everything else she didn’t know the names of. It was a breathaking area, a place almost out of a book. There was just something about it that was so incredibly, and undeniably, different than the Vos’ house. A certain air, maybe. It felt more alive than it did in the house. Even with all the people and the memories. It just felt more.

“You gonna stare all day?“ A breathe. An exhale. In, out. Then, “There’s not much of a day left so it’d probably be a waste.“

Shelby feels misplaced as she turns to see Toni sitting on a chair in the corner. Sure she hadn’t truly been keeping tabs on everyone at the party, but she feels like she should have noticed the brunette absent for the worse part of the night. She digs her finger into her thumb.

“Um,“ she backtracks and turns away from the other girl. “Yeah. S-Sorry, Colette asked for white flowers and said that they’d be in here. She didn’t mention how you would be here, too...“

Her sentence trails off towards the end, becoming quieter as she says the last syllable. Everything is just off now. She shouldn’t be in here. Shelby should be in the party helping Wilhelm. She shouldn’t be in here. She shouldn’t be in here with Toni. With Toni alone. God, she wanted a drink.

“Do you not want me here, Shelby?“ Toni gets up from the chair somewhere in the sentence and that’s all she can think about after. But as she turns to look at the girl again, she realizes it’s just for her to look around the greenhouse to find the flowers Shelby was supposed to be looking for. (She needed to get a fucking grip.)

Their eyes connect a few seconds after, brown meeting green, and that’s when Shelby remembers that Toni had asked her a question — however rhetorical it may be. (She doesn’t think she could focus long enough to figure out if she had asked it as a joke or not.) (Most of her focus was on said girl instead and the way her hands were moving over different white flowers.)

“Yes — no! No. I meant,“ she paused to breathe in, her finger digging in just the slighest bit more. “I meant no.“

There’s an amused type of look gracing Toni’s features she should probably be focusing more on. Not the way her own probably looked something akin to distress and embarrassment. But Shelby was always better at noticing things she shouldn’t, noticing the way Toni had yet picked a flower even though they were surrounded by three different types of white flowers. But then she speaks again and Shelby can’t really remember what she was exactly thinking about. “I’m glad.“

What the hell does that mean?

But before Shelby could truly question what she had said, Toni was suddenly a foot away and handing her flowers. “They’re snowdrops. Both of the kids really like them because — “

“ — Of the name, right?“ The blonde hadn’t really meant to interrupt but she felt like she knew the children enough to just know they would gravitate towards something solely because of what it was called. She glanced up after a few seconds to see Toni smiling slightly, looking at a spot just south of her eyes. Like she didn’t want to make eye contact at the proximity they were in, as if she wasn’t the one to step so close.

Shelby was the one to initiate eye contact that time, boldly (or trying to be, anyway) not breaking it even as she stepped the slighest bit forward. Not breaking it even when she grabbed the posy of snowdrops and she could have sworn Toni inhaled just a little more sharply than she usually does. She didn’t even break it when their hands gently touched as she moved the flowers towards her chest.

It’s only when Toni steps just forward so that their feet brush does Shelby seem to find her voice, again. And instead of saying something like, ’You look really pretty tonight.’ Out comes, “I should probably head back and call James. My fiancé. He-He was asking about the party just before Colette asked me to grab some flowers.“

Shelby doesn’t really know how Toni looks at her after the words linger in the air. She doesn’t like it. At all. Doesn’t like the way she steps back, or the way her eyes seem to build walls over them. She doesn’t like the silence that fills in the air before she speaks again. This time distant and almost cold.

“Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, would we?“ Shelby opens her mouth to say just about anything to fix what she had seemingly broken but the brunette beats her to it. “Have a nice night.“

No, this wasn’t right. This shouldn’t feel like some sort of ending. They hadn’t even begun. Their story was still on the first chapter, the first page even. Shelby wasn’t done and Toni looked like she had finished long ago. This wasn’t right. Endings had never been Shelby’s favorite and this — her and Toni — shouldn’t be done. Not yet.

The silence between the words left unsaid had never been Shelby’s favorite either. She had never enjoyed her pointer finger pressing into her thumb until it drew blood; a silent plea to stop never leaving her crestfallen lips. Shelby doesn’t enjoy it now with Toni looking at her like she was everything and nothing all at the same time. She thinks that if she is their downfall, then Toni is their saving grace.

And when she breaks eye contact, a shaky exhale leaving her lips; she feels as if there is nothing left to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note but i don’t edit my chapters after i write them fully so there will probably be some mistakes & i’m sorry about that.


End file.
